


let me haunt, let me be your ghost

by timefornothing



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Pining, Supernatural - Freeform, and he makes cool friends, ghost - Freeform, harry just has cool powers, kind of an AU, lots of pining and being oblivious, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:50:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1369474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timefornothing/pseuds/timefornothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since he was thirteen, Harry Styles has been at the universe's whim, being whisked about god-knows-when to god-knows-where to set up people with their soulmates. Now he's twenty years old, he's set up countless people, and Louis is the only person who knows.</p>
<p>That is, until Harry gets sent to a certain girl and he realizes just how oblivious he's been to the love in front of him this entire time.</p>
<p>or the one where Harry has cool powers (or not so cool) and it takes a stranger to call them both idiots before he and Louis realize they were meant to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. let me haunt

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiii guys!
> 
> this story was just for fun, mostly inspired by the song ghost by parachute.
> 
> kinda wrote it for my sister as well
> 
> this will be fun, i didn't really know where i was going with this when i wrote it but it ended up okay so yeah! second part should be up soon!
> 
> enjoy and leave feedback (:

The feeling had been following her for a while now.

The chill of a whisper across your ears, the shivers as you feel an unknown gaze watching you, the heart-stopping terror of catching something out of the corner of your eye. But as soon as you turn and look, eyes searching for the cause of your terror—there’s nothing there. Or rather, it’s gone. Because whatever was just previously scaring the piss out of you, it’s not there anymore. So she kept walking to her car in the deserted parking lot, kicking herself for feeling so childish and scared.

But in her car, it was the same thing. The same feeling that someone’s watching you. So she kept the volume on the radio turned up, kept glancing in her rearview mirror for a glimpse at the back seat, all to reassure herself that she wasn’t crazy and no one was there.

She walked into her house, again mumbling about how she never should have moved out of the apartment she shared with her sister and her friends. Being alone in the apartment with her dog did little to ease the feeling that someone had followed her inside. It was nighttime now, so she went around locking all the windows and doors, checking for a third time as she pulled the blinds down. She slept with a few lights on, just enough that she’d be able to see if someone was trying to creep up on her in the shadows.

The feeling went on for months. She had convinced herself that she was just paranoid, that these feelings were all hallucinations of some sort. After all, what sane person would continue seeing things flash out of the corner of her eyes just as she turned to look? Unless she was crazy, why else would she keep hearing her name being whispered at random intervals? It continued on and on, but she kept a smile on her face, bearing through it at work and making herself smile those long months.

And then she finally saw him.

Or rather, she was blaming all of the hallucinations on him. All of the creepy feelings she had, she was blaming it on the stupid boy who she saw in her stupid shower while she was brushing her stupid teeth at two in the morning.

Granted, she could have just been seeing things again, considering she had just come off of a double at work and she was absolutely exhausted. Her dog was already asleep on her bed and she was walking around in her too-short shorts from when she was maybe ten years younger and a sports bra. Why would it matter? No one would see her—at least, that’s what she thought.

There she was, brushing her teeth. She leaned down to spit, then when she stood up straight once again and looked in the mirror—there was a man standing behind her in her shower. Instantly, she spun around, toothbrush out in front of her like it was a weapon she could effectively use against him—but he was gone.

Her breath froze in her chest as she glanced around the small bathroom. She even kicked the shower curtain for good measure, just to be sure the guy she had seen wasn’t hiding behind it. But there was no way he could have fit. The guy she had seen must have been at least six feet, with the shoulder width to match. She sat there for a few minutes, attempting to collect herself and trying to think about anything but the fact that she had just imagined someone in her bathroom.

That night, she didn’t sleep easy, didn’t turn a single light off. She remained awake, a bat clenched in her hands just in case he reappeared. She’d wake up any time a noise made it’s way to her ears, starting and glancing around wildly. But she didn’t see him again that night.

Or for the next week, even.

She spent the greater part of that week drowning herself in work, telling everyone that her rent had gone up, and that’s why she needed the hours. In reality, she just didn’t want to go home. When she did, she constantly checked over her shoulder, tending to avoid the mirrors and the shadows in the corners of the rooms she wasn’t in.

The next time she saw him, she wasn’t at home.

She had just left work and was currently making her nightly paranoid walk to the car.

“Lindsey…”

She froze, eyes squeezing shut as she gripped her keys tighter in her hands. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, breath turning shallow as she turned around to look for the source of the whisper, but found no one. She was alone in the parking lot, her car—only five feet away—was the only one left. She took a shaky nervous breath, turning back around to face her car—and literally gasped out loud when she saw his reflection in the car window. Lindsey stumbled back a few steps, nearly falling flat on her ass. As soon as she righted herself to take another look, he was gone. But the burning green gaze had forced its way into her mind, and no way was she going to forget it now as she was driving home. In fact, she was trying so hard not to think about the way that his eyes looked that she barely heard it when suddenly her name was being whispered on the radio.

She sat at the red light two blocks away from her apartment, astounded. Had she heard that right? She reached and turned the Script song up louder, and sure enough, underneath the chorus of the song, someone was whispering, “Lindsey!”

Someone honked at her, and she realized she had missed the light turning green. She practically sped home, desperately trying to ignore the fact that her radio had just called her name multiple times. She parked, locked the car, ran up to her apartment door, locked that behind her as well—all three locks—threw her purse on the kitchen table and sprinted to her room, locking that door behind her as well. Her dog on the bed looked up n confusion as I collapsed down beside him, breathing heavily. She lifted her head to say something to soothe him, and that was when she noticed the blinds were up.

And the window was open.

She didn’t move for a few minutes, fear making her freeze as she thought this through. If he was in her room, he’d be in the closet. He couldn’t fit under her bed. But something told her that her dog would be less than calm right now if there was a strange man in the closet.

Mustering up what little courage she had left, she crossed the room silently, closing the window, relocating it, pulling the blinds down. Mechanically, on auto pilot, like she had for weeks now. And then she turned around—

—And screamed. She wasn’t going to deny it or try and sound tough or anything, because she absolutely and positively screamed like a terrified little girl. Because she was, in her mind. She was terrified of this man who had suddenly appeared in her room, staring at her with those blistering green eyes.

“Lindsey.”

She shrank to the floor, hiding her face in her hands and crying unabashedly. How the hell did he know her name? What was he going to do to her?

“Lindsey?”

She shook her head, whimpering.

“Er, you are Lindsey, aren’t you?”

She stopped then, confused. There was a tone of earnestness in his voice, of confusion. He didn’t sound like he was going to kill her, or even hurt her, for that matter. He was genuinely wanted to know if she was Lindsey.

She raised her head from her hands warily, daring to look up at him. He stood in front of her, and she swore that she saw him flicker in front of her eyes. He seemed to have noticed as well, and he looked from his hands back to her, a desperate look in his eyes. “Are you Lindsey? Please, I don’t have much time.”

“I—“ She watched him, dumbfounded as his figure began to waver in and out in front of her. “Yeah, I’m Lindsey.”

His face crumpled, and he reached out to say something more—and then he was gone. To her disappointment, her dog had been watching the entire time, not doing anything. Why hadn’t he jumped to protect her? This was the same dog who growled at anyone who came within two feet of her, including her parents and sister.

But who was this man? And why did he keep appearing and disappearing? Was he some sort of ghost? And why the fuck was he so desperate to know her name?

Unfortunately, she was left hanging for another two weeks. No visions, no whispers of her name, no weird feelings when she was alone in her apartment. She had begun to think that maybe he was gone now, that she was no longer needed on his existential ghost journey or whatever. Maybe he needed to know her name and then he was free or something. She was definitely free of feeling so paranoid all the time.

She was in the middle of thinking one of these thoughts when she opened the door to her apartment after work, and he was sitting there, petting her dog.

She screamed again, and both of them looked at her as if they had been caught doing something illegal. Which this was. Or something. It definitely wasn’t normal, she knew that. She shut the door quickly behind her, squeezing her eyes shut and telling herself this wasn’t real.

“Lindsey?” Came a hesitant voice, and she spun around, hands clenching her purse to her as she sank to the floor again.

“Who the fuck are you?” She breathed, watching him with wide eyes. His face surprisingly fell into something that looked like guilt.

“Look, I don’t mean to scare you, honestly. I’m really sorry.” He looked down at his hands, hanging loosely in front of him now that he was standing just a few feet from her. “Usually I don’t just appear like this. I’m able to come and talk to them without disappearing or whatever.”

“What?” She asked incredulously, breath slowly coming back to her. His voice was slow, like velvet and gravel, if that combination could coexist peacefully. He was just as tall as she had thought, about six feet, and his green eyes were just as deep and smoldering as she remembered. They honestly seemed like the only solid thing about him. Even as he was standing there now, she began to see him flicker, and his eyes widened as he glanced down at her.

“Lindsey, I’m gonna be back again. Don’t be scared, I’m here to help. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He rushed out as he began flickering quicker. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, just don’t be scared. I—“

And then he was gone, and she let her legs fall to the floor as she stared at where he had just stood. Don’t be scared? What was this, some kind of twisted Disney Halloween movie? She had every right to be scared, and she was going to continue to be until he explained himself to her.

The next three days she had off after nearly no breaks since Christmas, and she spent it curled up on her couch with some coffee and her dog, Bruce, and waited.

He appeared on the third day as she was walking out of the tiny kitchen in her tiny apartment. Everything about the apartment was tiny, that’s why she could afford it. So magically having someone appear randomly in a room was definitely noticeable.

She’d never really seen him appear before, he had just always been there. It was like watching the air in front of you waver, like it did when you saw hot air rising above the pavement. And then he was there, and the flickering subsided, and he automatically raised his hands in a defensive gesture when he saw her. “Please don’t scream again.”

She honestly didn’t think she could have. She was so confused and amazed that she didn’t think she was breathing. She set her coffee mug on the counter beside her, then turned to face him. Hoping to sound calmer than she felt, she asked him, “What the hell are you?” But it came out sounding more like a squeak than actual words.

He lowered his hands warily, seeing she was a little more prepared this time. “I’m not a ghost, or whatever you think I am, I promise.” He answered slowly, still looking a little nervous.

Without really thinking, she picked up a pen and chucked it at him. He flinched as it hit him and fell to the floor, and he looked up at her with a scared expression. “Ow, what was that for?”

“You said you weren’t a ghost, I wanted to make sure you weren’t lying.” She answered, squinting her eyes at him. “If you aren’t a ghost, then what the fuck are you?”

He allowed himself a slight smirk, “So you’ve got a potty mouth.”

“Do you have a problem with that?” She spat, hands moving to rest on her hips.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, actually. Two of my best mates happen to have some of the filthiest vocabularies. I’m almost embarrassed to be seen with them.” He looked back up to her and dropped his smile when he saw she still hadn’t moved. “Why are you glaring at me like that?”

“Because you still haven’t answered my question.” She was definitely sounding braver than she felt.

He sighed, then looked over to the couch. “May I?” She nodded, and he moved to sit next to Bruce, who wagged his tail when the man’s hand fell on his head and started scratching affectionately.

Amazed, she walked over and sat on the coffee table across from him. “How did you do that? He hates everyone.”

The man shrugged, “Dunno. I’ve always been good with animals.” He looked up to her with a half-smile, and she realized then he wasn’t really a man. His clean face had no hint of stubble, and his eyes were much more bright and curious than someone who would have been older.

“How old are you?” She asked, breaking the silence.

“Just turned 20.”

“How old are you really?”

“20.” He cocked his head to the side, the question making him smile. “What, working through the vampire theory now?”

“That and others.” She stared at him hard, rolling over his answers in her mind. “Why won’t you tell me what you are?”

“Because I don’t really know what I am.” He shrugged, finally taking his large hand off of Bruce and leaning back onto the couch more comfortably. “And besides, ethereal matchmaker is probably the closest I can come up with, and that doesn’t always clear things up.”

She just stared at him again, still absolutely confused as to what was going on. How long did she have to extract information out of him before he disappeared again? “How long were you here before I got home last time?”

“Maybe four minutes?” He answered, “I think so, yeah.”

“So I probably don’t have long before you disappear again.” She nodded, sighing. “Oh boy.”

“How do you figure?” He asked, the smirk once again dancing across his lips.

“Well, the first time I saw you was for like, a second.” She said, and he nodded. “The next time was probably about a minute, and the last time you would have been here for five minutes. So basically, I get a little more time every time you appear, right?”

His face broke out into a grin. “See, that’s the thing. You never know. It’s been seven years, and I still can’t find any rhyme or reason as to why I appear and disappear when I do.”

“So you’ve been doing this—“ She waved her hand in the air emphatically, “This thing, for a while now?”

He nodded, “Seven years and one month, actually.”

“And what is it exactly that you do?”

“I help people find the love of their life.” He answered with a simple shrug. And she couldn’t help but laugh at that. His face crumpled, brow furrowing. “It’s true! Only it’s usually not this difficult to get the ball rolling.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snorted, watching him.

He frowned at her. “Usually I appear and I know their situation right off the bat. Like, their names and situation and stories are already in my head. And I help them figure it out, help them work through it. A friendly helpful stranger who appears in coffee shops or crowds or whenever they need it most to help guide them back to the person who loves them most, and who they love most. I usually appear in critical moments, when both parties are around or whatever.” His angry glare had dropped, and instead he was looking at her with desperation. “Except this time, I couldn’t appear right away. I kept coming in bits in pieces—as a vision, a whisper, a song. And I don’t know anything about you. Only your name, your first name.” He ran his hands through his hair. “It’s frustrating. One time I set someone up in only three minutes.” He sat forward, leaning heavily on his knees. “This time is so bloody difficult and different, and I don’t know why.”

And then he was flickering in front of her, and she blinked quickly. “Wait! What’s your name?”

He looked up to her, mouth opening—and then he was gone. She groaned in annoyance and rolled her eyes, because of fucking course he would disappear in that instant.

And that’s when she decided to start keeping a journal of everything he told her. She wrote it all down, in hopes that maybe she could figure out what exactly he was.

When she felt up to it, of course. Right now, she needed a strong drink and to sleep the rest of the day off.

 

 

 

 

“Hey! There you are!” 

He plopped down heavily on the sofa, and his best friend glanced to his watch. “Eight minutes. That’s plenty of time to set someone up.” He nodded with a grimace, leaning back to run his fingers through his hair again.

“What’s got you so worked up about it?” He smirked, “Can’t get them to fall madly in love with each other just yet?”

He shook his head, “No, Louis. It’s different this time.” He stared down hard at his hands. “I…I don’t know who I’m supposed to be setting her up with. I don’t know anything. And I can’t always fully get there, you know?” He looked over to him, “You know a few weeks ago when we were at the studio and I zoned out for a few minutes? I was in her radio. Only my voice. I was in her stupid car radio.” He sighed, leaning his head back to the couch, closing his eyes. “I don’t get it. I don’t know what’s going on this time.”

Louis shifted beside him. “Well, what’s she like?”

He smirked, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “She’s got a mouth like you and Niall. And a dog. And her apartment is clean, but her car isn’t, and she listens to that radio station you and I always listen to, and she works at a shitty restaurant job in a weird part of town, and her hair is blonde and her eyes are blue.”

Louis snorted, “Fuck, Harry, I didn’t ask for her biography.” Harry shifted uncomfortably, not liking the way Louis was looking at him. It was a look that said ‘heyyy you like this girl!’ which wasn’t completely untrue. It’s just that Harry didn’t like her like that. Or girls, for that matter. He tended to go for boys, specifically boys with bright blue eyes. But Louis was never allowed to know this. “What’s her name?”

This time he smiled, finally knowing an answer for sure. “Lindsey. Her name is Lindsey.”

 

 

 

“Work sucks.” She told Bruce as she came in the door that night. She tossed her stuff onto the kitchen table again, sitting down in the middle of the kitchen floor next to her dog. “Everything sucks. What do you want for dinner? More sucky takeout?” She sighed and opened the fridge with her foot. All that was inside was a half-empty jar of jelly, strawberries, and leftover Chinese from yesterday. 

She groaned, leaning forward on her knees to grab it, and slammed the door shut. It had been four days since the ghost last appeared. She knew he said he wasn’t a ghost, but that’s what she was calling him because that made the most sense so far. He was her ghost, and she was going to figure out what exactly he was doing here.

“Harry.”

She dropped her fork to the floor, watching it bounce and skitter its way until it came to rest next to a large black boot. Her gaze travelled up the tight black jeans, up the white shirt and green jacket, all the way up to the curly brown hair and green eyes.

“What?” She asked, still staring wide eyed.

“You asked what my name was last time before I left.” He shrugged, and sat down on the floor across from her. “My name is Harry. Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure.” She answered, deadpan, and watched as his smile didn’t disappear at her unenthusiastic greeting. She grabbed her fork when he held it out to her, leaning back to where she had been originally, against the dishwasher. Bruce lifted himself up and padded his way over to harry, practically throwing himself on Harry’s lap as he leaned into him. Which is impressive in itself: Bruce was a two year old chocolate lab, so it’s not like he was a small dog. But he fit into Harry as if he were a pomeranian and a two-year old child cuddling on her kitchen floor, and not that fat mound of fur and some strange 20 year old.

“You don’t look like a Harry.” She said finally, chewing on the lo mien. Fuck manners, she was talking to a ghost. 

“What do I look like, then?” He asked casually, scratching Bruce behind the ears.

“A ghost.”

He laughed, a warm sound, and not at all making her feel stupid or whatever. It was a kind laugh, because what she had said he genuinely found funny. “And what kind of names do ghosts have?”

She shrugged, “I dunno. Casper. Alabaster. Something old-timey and creepy.”

He gave her a grin, “Are we going to spend the entire time I’m here debating what my mother should have named me?”

She didn’t answer, simply watching him for another moment as he sat there. He watched back, the same kind smile and light in his eyes. “So, Mr. Matchmaker, why are you here?”

He shrugged, smile finally faltering. “I honestly couldn’t tell you. As far as I can tell, I’m here just to pet your dog. I don’t have any other information.” He looked back up to her, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

She shook her head, and he straightened up a bit more. “Really? And what about exes?”

“I haven’t dated anyone in six years.”

“Really?” He cocked his head again. “How old are you?”

“20, same as you.” She shrugged. “I dunno, just never really felt attracted to anyone. Don’t have my eye on anyone either.” She gave him another shrug, apparently going for the all time record of how many times you could shrug in a single conversation. “So I’m just as confused as you are.”

“Hmm.” Harry stared down at his boots, “Well, until I figure out who you’re supposed to be with, you wanna tell me about yourself?”

“Nope.”

His gaze flicked back up to hers, confidence broken. He had carried himself well. And he probably had to, because he interacted with strangers constantly. Who wouldn’t develop an easy air of confidence when you were dealing with people you didn’t know? Lindsey certainly had, as being a waitress and a bartender made her practically the queen of dealing with strangers. “What? Why not?”

She narrowed her eyes. “For all I know, you’re a ghost. The less you know, the less you can fuck with my life.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “For the last time, I’m not a ghost.”

“Then explain to me what you are!”

“I can’t!” He shouted, exasperated. His hands fell limply into his lap. “I’ve never had to explain it to anyone before. It started when I was thirteen, and I was still figuring it out when my best friend found out. So we learned together. All the other people I’ve helped, I’ve never had to tell them. They thought I was just some stranger.” He looked hopelessly down at Bruce, still in his lap. “You, besides my best friend, are the only one who’s ever seen me disappear or reappear before.”

“Really?” She asked, now done with her Chinese and setting the empty carton beside her. “Is it hard, having people not know?”

He shook his head. “No. I never disappear in front of people I know, at least not yet. I tend to only do it when I’m alone.” He smirked, “That’s why I don’t come very often. I’m not alone, like, ever. And I’ve been going to other couples as well as you.”

She drew up her knees beside her, glancing at the time. He’d been here for quite a while so far. “Well, now you have someone else who knows. What do you and your friend call this thing that you do?”

Harry let out a short laugh, “My thing. We literally call it my thing that I do. I’m just kind of teleported to different places to help different people find their soulmate. And once I do, I stop appearing to them.” His gaze flicked up to hers, then back down to Bruce. “I’ve been coming here for a while, though. Almost a year I think.”

“That explains the feeling that someone’s watching me all the time.” She smirked, and he smiled as well.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” He looked up to her, meeting her gaze evenly. “Usually, like when I appeared in your car window, or in your radio, those things happen when I kind of daze out back where I come from. I’m neither fully here nor there, so it comes across as creepy to most people.” He chuckled, “Very few people experience that, though. I guess you’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Lucky, sure, whatever.” She laughed softly, looking down at her work socks. “So, uh, what’s your best friend think? Of your whole ghost thing?”

Harry looked like he was about to protest the ghost thing again, then sighed. “He thinks it’s funny. Well, not funny. Entertaining. I think he’s kinda jealous, that I do this thing and he doesn’t. But he makes me tell him every detail as soon as I get back from every trip.”

“Be sure to tell him I say hello from the Great Beyond.” She snorted, and Harry rolled his eyes. Then she asked, “What’s the Great Beyond like? Where you come from?”

Harry smirked at her, “It’s pretty great, actually. My hometown is a super small one, in the middle of nowhere. But I recently moved to a house just outside of London, and I share the house with my best mate. Our other friends are there all the time, because we work together often, so we practically spend every waking moment with them.”

Lindsey’s brow furrowed, “Wait, London? As in, London, England, where I live?”

Harry sat forward abruptly, disturbing Bruce in his lap. “You live in London? No way! I thought since I didn’t know, it was probably somewhere far away. And you’re accent’s a little off, so I thought you were American—“

“You based where I lived off of my accent?” She giggled.

“I’m actually quite good at accents, thanks.” He puffed out his chest a bit. “I never would have guessed you’re from London.”

“Neither would I, about you.” She smiled. “You don’t have a London accent whatsoever. Where’s it from?”

“Holmes Chapel.” He told her, grinning broadly. “It’s beautiful out there.”

“I’ll have to see it sometime, then.” She smiled, then an idea struck her. “Hey! What if I met you in real life? Then we wouldn’t have to worry about you disappearing in the middle of a conversation!”

“Yeah, sure!” He returned the smile, “I’m sure Louis would love to have someone to talk about my thing with. He hates keeping secrets, you know.”

“I can imagine.” She stood, wiping off the butt of her work pants. “Here, let me get some paper, and you can—“ She turned around and froze, letting the paper and pen fall to the floor.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” She mumbled, staring at Bruce, laying alone and confused on her kitchen floor. This teleporting thing was becoming a real bitch.

 

 

 

“Louis! Louis, wake up!”

Louis swung an arm, barely missing his face by inches. He groaned, glaring at him from under his mass of blankets. “Harry. It’s two in the morning. What the fuck could you want.”

“I just got back from Lindsey’s!” He told Louis, smile breaking across his face. “That’s why I’m coming back so late.”

“And?”

He sat on the edge of the bed, brow furrowed. “What do you mean and?”

Louis sighed, wiping a hand down his face. “I mean, and what? Did you two have a big revelation? Do you know who she’s supposed to be with?”

Harry fidgeted with the ring on his hand, “Well, no, but—“

“Then what the hell is so important that you had to wake me up?”

“Well, she said to tell you hi.”

Louis sat up, blue eyes narrowed into threatening slits. “That’s it. That’s what you woke me up to tell me.”

“No!” Harry shrugged off his boots and coat, crawling up onto the other side of the bed. “That’s not it! I think, you know, since we still don’t know yet, I’m gonna invite her to come meet us. I really think you’d like her. Niall would think she’s a saint, and Liam and Zayn would probably like her too. Did you know she lives in London? It’s probably a twenty minute drive from here, not even. And—“

“Haz, you can’t invite her over here.” Louis interrupted his rambling, confusion showing clearly on his still sleepy face. “She won’t recognize you, remember? They never do.” Harry looked down to his lap, mulling over his words. He did have a point.

“Not only that,” He continued, “But it’s a huge risk. She’s obviously gonna know who we are, and she could leak our address to the public, not to mention she might tell the fans personal details about us, steal things, take pictures—“

“She doesn’t seem the type.” Harry mumbled. He hadn’t really thought it through. Good thing he had disappeared when he did.

“They never do, Hazza.” Louis sighed. He must have noticed how down Harry was about this, because he put a hand on his knee, watching him carefully. “Look, just enjoy your time with her while you can, yeah? When you’re there, have fun and talk to her and try to help her. Or at least figure out how you’re supposed to do that.”

“Yeah, alright.” Harry nodded, sliding off his bed again. He padded over to gather his stuff, and Louis called out again just before he walked out the door, “Hey!”

“Yeah?” Harry turned around, hopeful he had changed his mind. But that wasn’t the case.

“Tell her I say hi as well. You know, to be friendly and all that.” He gave Harry a salute, then collapsed back onto his bed, burrowing his head underneath the blankets once again. Harry smiled to himself, the warmth of fondness in his chest, before closing the door behind him as he walked out.

 

 

 

The next time Harry appeared in her apartment was nearly three weeks later. He was anxious and nervous the entire time, wondering what was going on while he wasn’t there. He hadn’t even had time to do his usual car radio or window appearances with how busy his schedule had been. So by the time he got there, he was more than excited to see her again.

He appeared in her kitchen, but it was dark. That didn’t surprise him, however, since it was almost two in the morning. Maybe she wasn’t back from work yet.

Glancing around her apartment, he frowned. If she wasn’t back from work yet, then Bruce would have been on the couch waiting for her. Quietly, he walked through the living room and back towards her bedroom, pausing in the doorway. She was asleep in bed, work uniform still on as she lay on top of the covers. Bruce looked up at him and wagged his tail, getting up to come greet him. 

Harry sat on the floor in her room, unsure of what to do since she was asleep. Bruce laid down next to him, pressed firmly against his leg. It was nighttime, meaning no one was going to bother Harry at home, so he’d probably be here a while.

She must have sensed the missing warmth from her bed, because Lindsey shifted later on, eyes blinking groggily as she focused on Harry sitting by her bed. “Harry? How long have you been here?”

“Not long.” He shrugged, giving her a smile. “Just a couple minutes.”

“Oh.” She frowned and rubbed at her face, “What time is it? I didn’t mean to fall asleep yet.”

Harry laughed, petting Bruce lightly. “Linds, it’s almost two. Get some rest, you look like you had a rough day at work.”

She laughed, rolling onto her side as she got under the covers. “How could you tell? Were you there?”

Harry bit his lip, thankful she couldn’t see the look of concern that passed through his face. “No.” No, he hadn’t been. He almost wished he had. That parking lot was bound to cause problems one day. Her work was on the rougher side of town, and he worried about how late she got out all the time.

Why was he worrying? He literally knew nothing about her. Yet, even without any further information, he got a weird feeling that he still needed to help her somehow. He was meant to protect her, said the feeling in his chest. And Harry was never one to ignore the feelings his gut gave him. It was how he had operated his entire life, from age thirteen to the awkward sixteen year old years where he tried out for X factor, all the way up to where he was now, one of the biggest young adult stars in the world.

But of course, Lindsey didn’t know that. To her, he was just her ghost, sent to bug her when the universe willed it to be so. 

When he turned his face upwards to speak to her, she was passed out again, a light snore coming from her. He smiled to himself, giving Bruce one more pat on the head before he stood. While he was here, he might as well figure out what her apartment looked like on the outside.

Closing the door securely behind him and locking it with the spare key hidden in a sideboard, he set off down the steps, making sure to remember the door number as he walked down. Even if Louis said he couldn’t invite her over, he might swing by sometime, just to see how she’s doing.

He walked down the street, brow furrowing. She really did live in the dodgy end of town. He stopped beside a streetlamp, looking up to her apartment window, a soft smile creeping across his face. He didn’t know how he had managed to open the window that one time, but the look on her face was hysterical. Of course, he had felt bad about it at first, but now when he looked back on it—well, it was a good inside joke. With himself. 

He felt the familiar tickle start in his limbs, and with one last look at the street sign, he felt himself get pulled back to his own apartment, appearing in bed. If the universe had sent him back now, it meant that either someone was coming to talk to him or it had simply been time. He found out a moment later when Louis came into his room with a cookie, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Harry was just pretending to be asleep. Louis shoved the last of his cookie inside his mouth before wiping the crumbs on his shorts and climbing into Harry’s bed.

It was an old habit that had lasted since the X Factor. Whenever one of the boys couldn’t sleep, they went and got in bed with one of the others. Louis and Harry had still kept this up, even when they moved in together, and now.

Not that Harry was complaining. In fact, he quite liked the way Louis nestled himself against Harry’s back, burying his face in the soft fabric of Harry’s t-shirt.

Harry thought he quite liked it indeed.


	2. let me be your ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry's gift is explained more in this chapter, and the climax that the plot had been building up to this entire time happens.
> 
> this is the end of it, and it ends beautifully (i'm not blushing).
> 
> thanks for reading, and enjoy!

Over the next couple weeks, Harry continued to visit Lindsey when she was either leaving work, just got off or before she went in. His sleep schedule because of it was more or less screwed completely, but he didn’t mind. Lindsey was fun to get along with, and it was a welcome break from setting other strangers up and the crazy schedule he had with the band. The tingly feeling in his hands only happened a couple more times, but it was soon forgotten by the time Liam came to get him.

Lindsey continued to tease him about Louis, and Louis continued to bug him about what he and Lindsey talked about every time. It was like a game of telephone that Harry was all to eager to participate in. With every passing day, he couldn’t help but think about how well she and Louis would get on, even with the other boys. She was funny and quick, meaning she’d be a great match for Louis’ wit, but also super easy going, so Liam would love her, and she could probably keep up with Niall when he went on one of his buffet binges. Not only that, but she was really good at painting, and he could only imagine the conversations she’d have with Zayn.

“Oh, so he’s playing soccer while he’s in the band as well?” Lindsey asked Harry in the middle of his story, interrupting him like she usually did. “That’s so cool! I can’t believe he can find the time for it, especially after how crazy you make your schedule seem.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how he does it either.” Harry smiled, looking down at the ground. He was in the parking lot with Lindsey after she got off work, walking with her to her car. 

“Well, tell him I say good luck with his game!” Lindsey responded brightly, spinning to look at him. As soon as she did, her face dropped, transforming into that of pure horror as her eyes focused on something behind him. “Harry—!”

“What?” He turned around, and then something hard struck the side of his head, sending him flying to the ground. Stars spun before his eyes, and he gasped as the throbbing pain began in his head. Lying on his stomach on the pavement, the gravel was digging into his palms and cheek as he struggled to make the world stop spinning and to catch his breath.

“Harry!” He heard Lindsey scream, and he was able to focus his gaze long enough to see the large man who had hit him grab her by the arm, forcing her towards her car.

“Let’s go, pretty lady.” The man growled. “Take me back to your place.” He shoved her against the car again, and she stopped resisting as he shoved the barrel of a gun into her side.

“Linds.” Harry grunted, eyes blinking furiously as he tried to right himself enough to stand. 

And then, on top of the pain, he felt himself begin to flicker, faster and faster, and he rushed to stand up. “Lindsey!” He shouted, running towards her car that now held her and the assailant inside. “Lindsey!”

Suddenly he was in his bedroom, staring at the blank wall in front of him. His head was spinning again, along with the tingling feeling, and it was making it hard for him to focus.

“Harry, hey!” He heard Liam’s voice echo through the doorway from out in the hall. “I was wondering if you had—“

“Liam!” Harry shouted, spinning around. The view in front of him swam as he turned, and he grabbed the doorway to stabilize himself. “Liam, I need you to drive me somewhere.”

“Harry, are you okay?” Liam asked, concerned. He stopped, watching him with soft eyes. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Harry didn’t have time to think about how Lindsey would have laughed at that. “Liam, I need you to take me…” He closed his eyes, trying to remember. “London, the dodgy end. It’s down by that Fishmonger restaurant Niall made us go to that one time.”

“Harry, to be honest, you don’t look like you need to be going anywhere.”

“Liam! We need to go, it’s an emergency!!” He shouted, pleadingly looking into his friend’s eyes. “Please. Please do this for me. My friend needs help.”

Liam stared back at him, alarm showing clearly on his face. “Yeah, of course. My keys are just downstairs. What kind of trouble?” Then his eyes widened even more. “H, is that blood on your ear?”

“No time, we need to go.” Harry pushed past Liam, stumbling his way down the stairs with a white-knuckled grip on the banister to keep him from falling. Liam followed quickly behind, grabbing his keys off of the side table as Harry burst out the door, gaze laser focused on the car. He couldn’t afford to waste time. Who knew what was happening right now?

“Dodgy end. Just go down the main road, I’ll tell you where to turn.” Harry bit his lip and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths as he tried to stop the throbbing.

Liam turned onto the road, speeding up a little more every time he glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye. They had been speeding down the road for five minutes—and somehow miraculously avoiding any policemen—when he finally asked, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on? It is nearly midnight, Harry.”

“I, uh.” He rubbed his forehead. How could he explain this? It’s not like Liam knew his situation. “I got a phone call, from a friend. She said she was being attacked, but it cut out before she could tell me what was happening.”

“Why’d she call you and not the police?” Liam asked, turning when Harry pointed. 

“I think I’m her first speed dial.” He answered quickly, eyes wide as he tried to remember Lindsey’s street. It was difficult to see the street signs in the dark. “There! Turn here.” Liam did, and he spotted her apartment complex at the end of the tiny road. “Hurry, that’s her place right there, second floor.” Sure enough, her car was out front, and Harry was desperately hoping the liquid next to it was oil, not blood. As soon as Liam had the car parked, Harry was out and moving, adrenaline and the tingly feeling throughout his entire body making him forget the pain in his head. He sprinted up the stairs, Liam close behind, and his stomach dropped when he saw her door was cracked open, and that was most definitely blood on the doorknob.

“Holy…” Liam breathed, and that sent Harry into motion again, throwing open the door with a large shout, “Lindsey!”

A large grunt, shortly followed by a muffled scream was heard from her bedroom, and Liam followed Harry back there as he ran, bursting through the door. The large man from before spun around, and Harry’s eyes widened as he saw Lindsey tied to her own bedposts, work pants down around her ankles, and tears and blood making a messy trail down her face.

The man lunged at him, but Harry sidestepped quickly, and to his amazement, Liam swung and landed a solid punch on the man’s cheek, making him stumble. He grinned breathlessly—thank God it had been Liam he had found. Liam could definitely handle himself in a fight. Seeing that he had it covered, Harry ran over to Lindsey and jumped onto the bed, working to get the rag out of her mouth and the rope from around her wrists.

She was a sobbing mess, babbling incoherently and gripping him tightly once he had her free from her restraints. He turned to go help Liam once again, but the man was out cold on the ground, Liam standing above him and wiping at a busted lip.

“Jesus, Harry.” He gasped, examining the blood he had wiped off on his hand. “A little warning the next time you’re taking me to beat up some bloke.” Harry grinned at him, then turned to Lindsey, pulling her against his chest.

“Linds, hey, hey, I got you. Are you alright?” He rubbed her back, and she nodded hesitantly, keeping her hands to herself. With a glance at Liam, he told him, “Go ahead and call the police.” Liam nodded and pulled out his phone, and Harry pulled back to look at Lindsey.

She stared up at him, bewilderment and confusion replacing the fear that had been there before. Once again, he asked, “Are you alright?”

“I, uh, yeah.” She nodded, voice thick with tears. “But—do I know you?”

Harry froze, cold creeping down his back and extinguishing the tingling feeling that had been engulfing him this entire time. Of course. She didn’t recognize him. He glanced over his shoulder at Liam to see if he had heard, but Liam was too engrossed in the phone call, describing the address. Bless Liam and his good memory.

“Lindsey, it’s Harry.” He told her, hands still holding steady onto her arms.

“Yeah, I know that. You’re Harry Styles.” She told him, still somewhat wary. “But how do you know me?”

How could he get her to see it was him? How could he even begin to try and explain?

“Because I’ve been visiting you for over a year now.” He said quietly, and her brow furrowed, even more confused. Before she could speak again, he continued. 

“It’s Harry. The guy who appears in your house from time to time, sometimes in your car, sometimes outside of your work. One time I was in your car radio. And your shower.” Lindsey was frozen, and he wasn’t sure if he had gotten the point across yet. “You talked to me about how you haven’t dated anyone in six years. I’m the only person your dog, Bruce, doesn’t hate. I’m your ghost.”

Then it clicked. He watched the realization dawn in her eyes, see the tears start building up once again as she looked at him, really looked at him. “…Harry?”

He nodded, and she inhaled quickly, “I thought you were gone—you disappeared. I was going to die, I knew it, I just knew it.” He pulled her in again, holding on tightly as the sobs wracked through her body. He set his face against her hair, looking over to Liam, who was walking towards them again.

“They told me to keep an eye on the guy, and the police should be here anytime now.” He told them, keeping a wary eye on the man on the floor. “Is she okay?”

“I’ll be okay once I get my pants back on.” She snorted, voice sounding muffled from Harry’s shirt. Everyone laughed quietly, allowing her to do so, and Harry felt the tingling begin once again as she shoved herself into his side. “To think you came all the way from the Great Beyond just to save me.”

Suddenly, they noticed the whining coming from outside of the room. Liam opened the door to the bathroom, and Bruce came sprinting out, nearly knocking Harry over as he jumped onto the bed to sniff and lick at Lindsey, making her giggle.

“Uh, I’m sorry we couldn’t have met under better circumstances,” Liam started, walking over, “But I’m Liam, Harry’s friend.”

Lindsey only laughed. “Liam Payne. He’s Harry’s friend. Harry Styles. Holy shit.” She looked at Harry, “I can’t believe I never made the connection before.” She must have recognized the confusion on Liam’s face and the panic on Harry’s, because she quickly turned to Liam and took his outstretched hand. “I’m Lindsey. Sorry about not meeting before as well. Harry sucks at introducing the people he hangs out with to his other friends.” 

As her hand touched his, a shock rolled through Harry’s body, nearly knocking the wind out of him. The tingling feeling was a full on buzzing now, and he looked incredulously between Lindsey and Liam. Were they—? There was no way. No way. Louis was going to freak.

Before he could dwell on that any longer, the police showed up, and the attacker was taken away in handcuffs. They questioned Lindsey and the boys about the attack, and she was able to answer the questions efficiently enough that the police were packing up to leave within twenty minutes.

“Do you have somewhere safe to stay until we can confirm he was acting alone?” The lead officer asked, and before Lindsey could open her mouth to answer, Harry placed a hand on her knee.

“Yeah, she’ll be staying with us.” She gave him a funny look, but held her retort back and nodded to the officer, who left them soon after with a number to call if they felt they were unsafe. Once they were gone and the medics had checked everyone out and said they were okay, Harry led Lindsey and Bruce out the door with his arm around her.

“You know, I don’t know how I feel about going to the Great beyond so soon.” She hissed lowly so Liam didn’t hear, “I just don’t think it’s my time to go.”

Harry groaned good-naturedly and opened the door for Bruce to hop in. “Enough with the ghost jokes, I get enough of those from Louis already.” She laughed and got in the back seat, and the fifteen minute drive was Harry introducing Lindsey to Liam and Lindsey assuring Liam that she was okay. Harry watched their conversation with a small smile, biting his finger. Oh, this was great. And it also explained why he had been getting the tingling feeling when traveling from one person to the other.

“Well, at least the busted lip makes you look like a tough guy.” Lindsey smirked at Liam, following Harry up the front walk. He laughed and opened the front door, and immediately they were met with a bristling Louis.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He shrieked, seeing Harry walk in the entryway. “You and Liam practically flew out of the house, and neither of you have been answering my calls! I was worried! Is that fucking blood on your ear? Where the hell have you been?” 

Harry, unsure of how to answer all those questions at once, merely stepped aside, beckoning the others to come in, and stated simply, “Louis, this is Lindsey.”

Just before he could make a snide comment, Louis’ face dropped, eyes opening comically wide. He stared at Lindsey for a moment, then turned to look at Harry, squeaking out, “Lindsey? That’s Lindsey?” Harry nodded, Liam frowned, and Lindsey beamed.

“That’s Louis?” Harry nodded again, and Lindsey smiled even wider. “Louis, after all that I’ve heard about you, it’s great to finally see you in person.”

Louis smiled at her, shooting Harry a look. “Of course, nice to meet you as well, although I’m wondering why you’re here.”

“Louis, be nice!” Liam scoffed, shutting the door behind him and Bruce. Surprisingly, the dog seemed to be liking everyone, much to the confusion of Lindsey. But then Liam was reaching and taking Bruce’s leash off, and turning to Lindsey. “Do you want a drink of water or anything?”

“Liam, you’re playing host and it’s not even your house.” Louis sniffed, then looked at Harry. “Actually, continue. I need to have a talk with Harold, here.”

“Harold?” Lindsey snorted, and Harry rolled his eyes. “Stupid nickname.” Then he followed Louis willingly up the stairs, and Bruce slowly padded off to sniff around the place. 

“Water actually sounds good.” Harry heard Lindsey answer Liam, following after him into the kitchen. “Whiskey would be better, however.” Harry smiled at Liam’s laugh, then shut the door to his bedroom after him. Louis stood there, hands on his hips, glaring.

“Want to explain why the hell she’s here when I specifically said that was a bad idea?”

Harry sighed, moving past him to go sit on the bed. “I didn’t really have a choice, Lou. She wasn’t safe at her house anymore.”

Louis dropped his angry gaze, exchanging it instead for a guarded one. “What do you mean by that?”

Harry looked down at his feet, the weight of everything that had happened finally catching up with him. “It started out just me visiting Lindsey. She had just gotten off, around midnight. I was walking with her out to her car when someone hit me on the side of the head and forced her into her car. I disappeared just before I could get to her.” He sighed, rubbing at the lump just behind his ear. “When I came back, Liam was walking by my room, so I made him drive me to her place. I had to help her, Lou, I’m so sorry. When we got there, Liam managed to knock the guy out, and I had to untie her from her bed.” Harry stopped, eyes closed. “God, I feel so bad for her. She was nearly raped, Lou. It’s a miracle we got there when we did.”

Louis finally looked up, “I guess it’s understandable. She’s staying here for a few days, yeah? Who knows if that sicko had a friend.” Harry let a small smile slip across his face. He knew Louis would understand.

“Yeah, she’ll be here until the police say it’s totally safe.” Harry answered, standing. Louis took a step closer to him, hand settling on his arm. 

“I’m glad you’re safe, Haz. I really am.” Then he smirked, playful grin returning. “Don’t you dare do this again.”

Harry laughed, “Not planning on it, don’t worry.” They turned to go downstairs to where Lindsey and Liam were, and then he remembered. “Oh! Louis, you’ll never believe this.” Louis turned back around with an eyebrow cocked, and Harry grinned at him, “Liam is Lindsey’s soulmate.”

Louis’ mouth dropped open, “You’re joking.”

“Not one bit.” Harry’s smile didn’t fade, and Louis’ practically lit up. “I’ve got to see this.” He went bouncing down the stairs, throwing his arms around Lindsey once they arrived in the kitchen, shouting, “Welcome to the other side, dear Lindsey!” Harry groaned, but soon laughed at Liam’s expression. They talked for a bit in the kitchen, then slowly migrated to the living room where Harry put on a movie, and after an hour or so, everyone was quieted down. Louis was snoring softly, draped across Harry’s body in the chair with his face shoved into Harry’s shoulder. Liam was asleep as well, head leaned back on the back of the couch while Lindsey was cuddled into his side. She caught Harry’s eye, grinning softly at him.

“What?” He whispered, not wanting to wake Louis up.

“You’re an absolute idiot.”

He frowned, hurt. “What do you mean?”

Lindsey rolled her eyes. “Harry, I’ve been here two hours and I can already see how much Louis loves you. You’re an idiot if you don’t think that he loves you just as much as you love him.” She smiled again, and he blushed, looking down at Louis face. “You need to tell him, otherwise I’m gonna do it for you.”

He sighed, smiling at her. “You just focus on Liam, worry about your own boy.”

“Gladly!” She responded brightly, then turned and cuddled closer to him, making Harry laugh. The movie ended soon after, and Harry offered his room to Lindsey while he slept in Louis’. Liam retired to the guest bedroom, and Louis had his clothes off and was in bed in seconds. Harry smiled to himself and followed shortly after, Louis pressing himself into his side as soon as he was under the covers.

After a few minutes of silence, Louis mumbled, “I was really worried about you, Haz. ‘M glad you’re alright.”

“Were you really?” Harry mumbled, smiling to himself in the darkness.

“Of course.” Louis scoffed, snuggling closer. Feeling warmer and braver than he ever had, Harry rubbed his nose into Louis’ hair, saying quietly, “Love you, Louis.”

He felt Louis stiffen under him, then a quickly muttered, “Love you, too, Haz. Course.”

“No, like, really.” Harry nudged Louis until he looked up to him, and continued. “I really do love you. I have ever since I met you. It just…I never wanted to tell you. I was afraid it’d mess up something between us, and I couldn’t stand to lose our friendship. And then today, with what all happened with Lindsey…I realized that it’s stupid. What if I never got the chance to tell you? And now, I can’t really hold it in any longer. I love you, Louis. Always have, always will.”

Louis was so absolutely still, and Harry was scared that he didn’t feel the same way. Just as he was about to extract himself from the embrace, Louis flew down onto him, pressing their lips together with a strange earnestness that Harry felt his own chest mirroring.

And suddenly, before his eyes, he saw the first kiss of everyone he had ever set up. Those two high schoolers that were his very first, at a football game. The two old people who had been best friends for sixty years. The two boys at the super market. The businessman and the barista. He saw his sister and her boyfriend, Zayn and Perrie, and he saw Liam sneaking into Harry’s room, climbing into bed with Lindsey, and Lindsey practically jumping on him, almost making Harry laugh.

Every moment, every couple, flashed before him, the buzzing building up and up and up, and then it exploded, causing a shiver to pass through his body, and fade away, leaving only the warm feeling of Louis pressed against him, their lips moving in sync as if they were made for each other.

And he knew that they were. For some reason, he just knew. Just as he had known with everyone else before, just as he knew now that his gift was slowly fading from him now that he had found his soulmate.

His soulmate. Louis. The thought made him smile, and Louis pulled away, smiling softly. 

“I love you too, Harry.” He told him with a small smile. “I thought you’d never say it.” And then they were kissing again, and Harry was wrapped entirely around Louis, the words ringing through his mind again and again.

_Louis Louis Louis._

_Soulmate soulmate soulmate._

_Mine mine mine._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!
> 
> go check out the song ghost by parachute if you haven't already, it's absolutely fantastic.
> 
> i love all of you, thanks again.


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